


A little bit - The Something Remix

by ragdollrory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Early Mornings, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Shiro (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdollrory/pseuds/ragdollrory
Summary: “You don’t have to carry it all alone, okay?” Shiro parts his lips to answer, unsure of how to do so, but Keith beats him to the punch. - The two times Keith asked something of Shiro, and the one time he answered.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54
Collections: Sheith Remix 2020





	A little bit - The Something Remix

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Something](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613037) by [thechaoscryptid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid). 



> My entry for the Sheith Remix 2020.
> 
> Aryagraceling's story was so soft and intimate, I adored it, and of course I had to see what if Sheith? I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> And as always, all the love to my amazing Beta, [Hiro](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero).

I.

“You gonna tell me?” Keith mumbles against Shiro’s chest, his voice soft and heavy with sleep, like it always is this early in the morning. Shiro’s arm tightens briefly around the slim waist where it’s been resting for the past hour or so, since he awoke.

“Hm…” he doesn’t mean to stall, or ignore the request, not really, but Shiro has learned there are things that are always better left unsaid. That there’s a high chance of bursting the bubble the two of them have created, in the short weeks since they began this, if he pours his every thought into the mix.

“Shiro.” Keith shifts in the embrace, mattress dipping with the movement, and Shiro waits for a moment longer, under the dim glow of dawn filtering through his closed eyelids. He can feel Keith’s gaze on him, can imagine the intensity of his bright purple eyes analysing him, and wishes he wasn’t one to put more worries in them. Wishes there weren't so many of them already there to begin with, much more than anyone so young should have.

“Keith,” he says, finally opening his eyes to take in the sweet view that is his boyfriend- God, to think he gets to call Keith that. Shiro’s hand reaches up to caress away the small frown pushing Keith’s brows together. “You should be sleeping.” He adds, for a lack of a better answer.

“I can’t when your thoughts are so loud.”

“Ah, I guess it’s my fault then.” He chuckles, barely a breath between them, and with little intent behind it as well, before pulling Keith down to him once again. They don’t have many moments like this, at peace, the halls of the Garrison still silent, until it’s time to get up and go about their daily routines.

They won’t have many more, either, before Shiro’s departure pulls them apart for the better part of a year.

Shiro knows he should get up, maybe make an attempt at breakfast, and allow Keith to get some more rest. He hadn’t meant to wake him up, not when he was still struggling to grasp at fragments of his dream, and put his mind in order once again. Hadn’t meant to expose Keith to the way Shiro always felt so relieved and disconcerted to have been allowed yet another day of life.

There’s a small huff of hot air at his neck, and Shiro knows he has maybe one full minute until Keith pulls away. Shiro will take it, because moving might break whatever semblance of control he’s gained so far.

“You’re impossible.” Keith squirms away, sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up in a mess only he can ever pull off as adorable. Shiro’s hand follows the movement until it rests on Keith’s thigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-” he shakes his head.

“Don’t apologise.”

And he shouldn’t, because this is his own mess, and Keith’s the last person on Earth he’d ever want to hear that from.

Shiro’s gaze travels across Keith’s features, still gentle with tiredness. His sharp jaw and slender neck, the lithe muscle he’s been gaining in his arms, the curve of his hip bone. Until his gaze catches on his own hand on Keith’s leg and the bracelet there, a reminder that he’s always been a dead weight for those around him. He doesn’t realize the tense breath he lets out then.

“What is it?” Keith shifts once again, his full attention on Shiro.

There’s an attempt at a smile on his part, but he knows he fails when Keith’s frown returns, one of his small hands splayed on Shiro’s chest, right above his heart.

“You’re so stubborn, you know that?”

“Is that a bad thing? It’s taken me places.”

The sun is now rapidly rising outside, and the first sounds of life beyond Shiro’s room can be heard around their contest of stares. The dragging of cadets’ feet across the floor, someone groggily complaining to a partner, a door closing in the distance.

“Is that- Shiro!” He earns himself a smack, in the very spot Keith’s hand was. Shiro can feel the warmth there long after Keith crosses his arms against his chest, in a gesture that belies his still-youthful attitude. It softens Shiro, even when he knows it shouldn’t. He shouldn’t take this- Keith- for granted.

“I guess I shouldn’t complain, you’re always preaching about  _ patience this _ , and  _ patience that _ , but-” Keith’s chest rises with a deep breath, jaw working out whatever it is that’s on his mind. Seconds tick past, there’s another light huff from Keith, lips pressed into a thin line.

“You can tell me, Keith, I won’t be mad,” Shiro offers, placating.

“I just wish-” His hands move to thread through his wild mane. “Not I- ugh, I should’ve slept longer to say this.” Purple bores into grey once more, and this time Shiro follows, sitting up next to him. “You don’t have to carry it all alone, okay?” Shiro parts his lips to answer, unsure of how to do so, but Keith beats him to the punch.

“I don’t know much about this- boyfriends and stuff-” he shrugs, and Shiro wants to pull him close, and tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t know much either. But he knows there’s something Keith wants to get out, so he keeps his hands to himself. “You said you wouldn’t give up on me, and I won’t either. Give up on you. But, you have to share some of the burden, Shiro, or it will crush you.” He tips his chin up, a challenge if Shiro’s ever seen one.

“That’s all?” Shiro’s hands are already reaching for Keith, climbing up the standard-issue cotton briefs, and searching under the white shirt the boy wears to bed for that soft skin Shiro’s grown so fond of.

“Yeah,” Keith doesn’t fight it, moves between Shiro’s legs and rests his head on his shoulder. “I think I deserve some coffee now at least.”

“Are you kicking me out of my own bed, punk?” He presses a kiss to Keith’s hair.

“Unless you want to give me something else… yes.” Keith peeks up at him, and Shiro would like to. He really would.

A hand moves further up then, pressing onto Keith’s back, pulling them flush together. “Has this been bothering you long?”

“Nah.”

“Keith.”

“Just when your thoughts keep me up, and you won’t share?” Shiro can barely hear it, and he thinks maybe it wasn’t meant for him to hear. “I guess I- worry. I don’t want you to end up crushed. I really like you.”

That breaks the tension a little, and Shiro laughs, lighter this time. The room is warmer now, the desert heat permeating through the walls.

“I can try to share, maybe?”

“Okay.” Keith’s lips leave a kiss on his neck, and Shiro can’t fight the shudder back. The way it disarms him, and the pieces he’d collected spread across the room once again. “Was it a nightmare?” Shiro nods. “Will you tell me?”

“Maybe later? You still need your coffee, since I robbed you of sleep.”

“I can talk now.” Talk about stubborn, Shiro thinks, but there’s a pocket of fondness opening in his chest.

“Later, I promise.”

“Fine.” Keith grumbles, head burrowing between Shiro’s neck and shoulder. “I just want a little weight, I can take it.”

“I know you can.”

II.

Mornings in the desert are not how Shiro remembered them, which is probably the last thought he should have right now, all things considered, but it’s what his brain provides as soon as his eyes open.

The heat is different now, somehow, even though, logically, he knows it isn’t. But Shiro feels dawn roll over him in a heatwave, crushing down so much on his chest that for a moment he wonders if he too will crack, like the next piece of furniture.

“Shiro?” Keith’s voice is low, and secretive, probably because they are not alone in the shack Keith brought him to, and surely because Shiro’s sure he’s doing a shitty job of keeping it together. He tried to keep still, but he’s now realizing he’s stiff instead, far too tense for Keith not to notice.

It’s the same as before, he tries to convince his mind of it. The same desert, the same heat. The same Keith?

“Shiro, are you alright? Look at me.”

Shiro turns to catch Keith’s gaze. It’s dark in the room, thanks to what seem to be several pieces of fabric- couldn’t be called curtains really- obscuring the light from the outside. But Shiro can see Keith perfectly.

It’s the one thing he never forgot.

The curve of Keith’s lips when he’s being particularly cheeky, the small dimples he gets when his laughter is genuine, the glow of his eyes at sunrise, the frown he’s now sporting because of Shiro.

“Sorry, was I thinking too loud again?” He can’t smile, although not for lack of trying. But his throat is dry and sore, and he can feel his parched lips tightening with the stretch of the movement.

“Don’t.” Keith’s voice takes on a darker note, threatening, and Shiro can’t decide whether he’s more ashamed or heartbroken. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Shiro, but don’t do that.”

_ I don’t know that you’re saying _ , a part of him wants to answer. The cowardly part, the one that hasn’t seen the light of the desert in over a year, because there was no time for fear out there. But he can’t do that to Keith.

“I can’t.” And he’s already turning away, hoping Keith can understand it as the sign that it is- if Shiro was broken before, then he can’t even begin to explain what he is now- when Keith’s fingers catch his face.

And that’s different, too. His hands are calloused now, stronger than Shiro remembered. They hold a patience to them, that was not there before the launch. Keith has grown while he’s been away, and new burdens have layered on top of the existing ones.

“Shiro,” the look above him is one that pins Shiro to the battered mattress and lumpy pillow, and robs him of his breath. There’s so much determination there, so much more than he could scramble together right now. But it’s a look he knows, too. Keith just before he does something amazing. “I can take it. Just- give me something, anything. I promise it’ll be alright. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

There’s silence between them then, but it’s not the sterility of a command ship coursing through the galaxy, no. This silence is alive. There’s the creaking of wooden walls, and the soft snoring of one of the cadets in the living room. A soft breeze making dirt and gravel roll around outside, and the scratchy squeal of a bird in the distance.

The silence is different in a way he knows, and his body fights to recognize as well. His eyes find Keith’s one more time. Shiro’s hand halts midair as soon as he realizes it’s the wrong one, but Keith’s there once again, closing the distance. Cheek pressed against the alien metal as if he doesn’t care. Shiro stops breathing altogether.

“I can take it,” Keith repeats, no waiver to his voice. “Whatever you give me, Shiro, I’ll take it.”

His arms find each other around Keith’s waist, pulling him down, pressing them as close together as he can before they become one, nose buried in Keith’s hair, because this is what he remembers the best.  _ Keith. _

“Soon,” he promises, not sure of how much truth there is in that. “Soon.”

III.

They aren’t talking, that’s their new thing. Shiro doesn’t need a clock, or the sunlight travelling across a room to know it’s been hours since they moved their silence to the cot in Black’s little service room. Practically the same amount of time he’s spent awake, with Keith laying in a tense line pressed to his side. 

Keith is not sleeping, either. Shiro’s not sure if he even tried at all, but there’s nothing he can say about it. Not anymore. Not now.

Shame rises in Shiro’s throat with the bitter taste of bile, and he fights back a shudder, not wanting to give Keith another reason to worry. Or maybe not wanting him to finally tire of Shiro’s tension, his silence, and get up and leave. It’s probably the latter, and the stars know Shiro’s been nothing but selfish when it comes to Keith. Shiro should never have let him follow all the way into this hell of a war Shiro somehow found himself tangled in.

Keith deserves the sky, endless, blue, and bright. Not- this. Not Shiro.

“Stop.” The word lingers in the tight space of the room probably for a full minute, before Shiro realises it came from Keith. A cracked and wet sound, pain-laced, that does nothing to ease the crack in Shiro’s chest, but at least moves him from his catatonic state into action. Keith is hurting.

“Keith, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No.” The bluntness of that word catches Shiro off-guard. Yet, what was he expecting? Never had Keith been one to beat around the bush. Still, Shiro’s left trying to figure out what to do now. What he’s allowed to do.

“Talk to me.” It’s the only thing Shiro can think of, and it’s the wrong thing to say.

Keith plants his hands on Shiro’s chest with a strength both reassuring and frightening. And then, even with Keith’s whole weight on him, he can’t help but to tremble. Their eyes catch, and in the soft glow of the ship’s lights Shiro can make out every teardrop on Keith’s long lashes.

“You talk to  _ me, _ Shiro.” It’s not exactly a staring contest, not really, but Shiro doesn’t look away, and neither does Keith, the request weighing as heavily on Shiro’s heart as the guilt he’s carried as long as he can remember.

“Keith, I don’t know- I — ”

“Yes, you do. You know what. Something, Shiro. I need something, please. Anything.” Keith’s words shake, and this time Shiro can see the moment tears fill his eyes, and fall on his chest. If he remembered how, he’s sure he’d be crying too.

It’s a moment too late- after his mind has done the whole movement to reach out to cup Keith’s face- that Shiro realises there’s no longer an arm to his right, and there’s nothing then to stop his eyes from moving to Keith’s brand new scar.

And then it all comes crumbling down.

“I can’t do this anymore.” It’s a fraction of a second, and Keith’s back at his side, hands cradling Shiro’s face as if he deserves it. Endless darkness extends in front of him, abiding and empty. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You won’t be. Never. I’m with you, Shiro, always have been. You just have to let me carry some of the weight.” Keith is quick to promise, his soul the most beautiful treasure Shiro’s ever discovered, under layers of hurt, doubt and mistrust. “I can do it, Shiro. I’ll never let go.”

Shiro’s gaze reaches over Keith’s shoulder, past Black’s sturdy metal skin to the space that’s beyond. Just something, start somewhere. It shouldn’t be so hard, a part of him tries to reason, except talking has never before led anywhere. Not before Keith.

He shifts on the small cot, left hand reaching up to touch at the healing skin on Keith’s pretty face. “I’m sorry.” 

“It wasn’t you.” Keith rests his weight on Shiro’s hand, and the way he’s not just running away is worth more than Shiro can put into words right now.

“I’m sorry I left you.” He’s not sure if he’s doing this the right way, but he’ll try. He’ll speak every word in every language ever to exist, if it means keeping Keith.

“You didn’t mean to,” Keith shakes his head, and then leaves a kiss to Shiro’s palm. It takes his breath away.

“Keith,” he’s not sure what comes after that. What could come after, when the very reason he’s alive is staring at him as if he’s not the single most fucked up thing in the universe? “I love you.”

And Keith’s smile then tells Shiro he’s on the right path, at last. “I love you too.”

Shiro feels a smile of his own stretch his lips.

“More?”

“That’s enough, for now.” Keith shakes his head once again, and scoots closer to him. “Let’s sleep.”

Yes, Shiro thinks. He can do that now.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed me, long, short, keyboard smashes, emojis, your choice!
> 
> Come chat with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ragdollrory).


End file.
